


December 4th: Reindeer

by IneffableToreshi



Series: Good Omens Advent Calendar 2019 [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Kids (Good Omens), Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley, Reindeer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:20:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21637276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableToreshi/pseuds/IneffableToreshi
Summary: This is Day 4 of my Good Omens Advent Calendar for 2019, in which Crowley wanders off after a phone call and Aziraphale sneaks after him to see what he's up to.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens Advent Calendar 2019 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550176
Comments: 12
Kudos: 94





	December 4th: Reindeer

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays everyone! I hope you enjoy my Good Omens Advent Calendar! Consider it my Christmas gift to the fandom! And if you want to give me a gift in return, please leave me a comment (I live for them!) and if you're really awesome check out my other stuff by going to my blog over at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com! <3

The phone call was suspicious. 

It had been a lazy afternoon in the bookshop. The weather was cool and brisk, the shoppers were milling up and down the streets of Soho, and Aziraphale had closed up early to avoid having to deal with any of them. The angel was sat comfortably in his favorite armchair, re-reading one of his favorite books of ancient poetry while a red-headed demon dozed on the sofa, somehow taking up the entire piece of furniture despite his gangling, lanky frame. 

The vibration of Crowley's mobile phone hardly registered in Aziraphale's mind because the device was always making a variety of noises. What was unusual was when the demon plucked the phone out of his pocket, examined the glowing screen, and pressed something to accept a call. The moment the demon's voice said, "What's up?" Aziraphale couldn't help raising an eyebrow in his direction. Crowley spent an exorbitant amount of time playing with his phone, but he rarely, if ever, spoke on it. At least, not to anyone besides Aziraphale. 

A short conversation followed, in which Crowley mostly listened. Aziraphale tried not let on that he was being a tiny bit nosy, but he did notice that a narrow-eyed look of annoyance passed over the demon's face at one point before he schooled his features. 

There were a lot of "Mm-hmm"'s and "Uh-huh"'s, and after a rather short length of time Crowley said, "Right. Be there soon," before hanging up. 

Aziraphale's eyes were on his book as the demon swung his long legs over the side of the sofa and stood with more grace than seemed logical for such a wiry form. He produced a pair of dark glasses from somewhere within his jacket, slid them on his face in a way that he probably thought was terribly cool, and inclined his head toward his angel. "Be back in a bit," he said simply, and began moving toward the door. 

Aziraphale's eye twitched with curiosity, but he continued to keep his gaze down on the words in front of him. "Where are you off to, my dear?" he asked, affecting a casual tone. 

Crowley didn't turn, but waved a hand in a non-committal way as he strolled under the jangling bell of the bookshop door. "Nowhere important," he called back. "Won't be gone long. Bring you a treat when I come back."

Then he was gone. 

Before the door had fully swung closed behind the demon, Aziraphale had is book closed, deposited on the table, and was giving chase. 

He wasn't spying, not really. As the angel quietly followed the red-headed demon through the streets of Soho he told himself that he was simply curious and so rarely got an opportunity to see what Crowley did and how he acted when Aziraphale himself wasn't around. It was, perhaps, a sinful type of curiosity, but who was counting anymore? He promised himself that if it turned out to be something embarrassing or personal he would turn his butt right around and head back to the shop and put the phone call out of his mind. 

Luckily it didn't come to that. 

To Aziraphale's surprise, where Crowley ended up was a paddock that had been set up on one of the edges of Saint James Park. Inside that paddock was a group of eight lovely, well-groomed reindeer wearing red satin ribbons decorated with a number of shiny gold bells.  _ Outside  _ of that paddock were a large group of children of varying ages who all looked equal parts disappointed and furious. 

Aziraphale ducked behind a tree and watched with interest as the demon strode confidently up to the large, gruff-looking human man who seemed to be in charge. 

"Whatcha got here then?" he asked, shoving his fingers in his pockets and leaning forward in a way that he often did when attempting to seem intimidating. 

The human - who was likely a farmer if he owned reindeer, but looked more like an over-muscled biker to Aziraphale - growled a little and puffed his chest out in response to Crowley's question. "Selling pics with Santa's reindeer," he explained in a tone as gruff as his appearance. 

"Debatable," one of the kids near the front of the line grumbled. 

The human sneered, but Crowley turned to the young girl who'd spoken. "Why's that?" he asked. 

The girl, a little blond thing with pigtails and a rather put-upon look on her face, held her head high when she replied. "He's charging fifty quid per kid!" she exclaimed. "As though that's in  _ any  _ way reasonable!"

From behind his tree Aziraphale smirked. He liked this girl. She reminded him of another feisty young lady they'd met in Tadfield not so long ago. 

Crowley was smirking too. "That does seem a little extreme, doesn't it?" he conversed with the girl. She and the other children nodded and agreed loudly while the man snarled and growled something Aziraphale couldn't hear.

"But that's not even the worst part!" a little boy piped up from about halfway down the queue. 

Crowley looked up, made his way to the little boy, and crouched down so that he was eye-to-eye with the youngun. "What's the worst part, my man?" he asked. 

The boy pointed an accusatory finger at the man - who was rapidly turning red - and revealed the sordid truth: "He told us that if we don't pay, he won't have any money to feed them, so he'll have to sell them to be butchered instead!"

Aziraphale's eyebrows nearly rose right off his head. What a terribly  _ nasty  _ thing to say to children about 'Santa's' reindeer! He was immediately struck by an intense desire to go give that man a piece of his mind, but it occurred that his particular brand of righteous fury wasn't required. 

Crowley stood, ruffling the little boy's hair as he did, and Aziraphale could tell from the twitch of his lips that this was information the demon had already received from his phone call; he'd just wanted it said aloud in the presence of the perpetrator. He turned, eyebrows slightly raised, his hand still lingering protectively on the child's head. "Is that true?" he asked the man. 

The man's lip curled as he looked down his nose at the group of children and their odd-looking protector. "What's it to ya?" he snarled. "They're my reindeer, ain't they? I can do whatever I want with them, and like I told the brats earlier, I can charge whatever I damn well want too!" He folded his arms tight across his chest and threw his shoulders back; an attempt at an alpha-male posture if Aziraphale had ever seen one. 

The demon wound his way back through the children slowly and deliberately, shoving his fingers back into his tight pockets and choosing his words carefully. "Thought you said they were Santa's reindeer," he said with a sly grin. "Can't be yours then, can they?" 

The man rolled his eyes dramatically. "What're you, simple?" he growled and ignored Crowley's question. 

Crowley only grinned wider at that. "Seems to me that it can only be one of two ways," he contemplated aloud. "Either these are Santa's reindeer, which means you have no right to do anything to them, or they're just ordinary reindeer and you're trying to extort an exorbitant amount of money from children to get a quick snapshot with common farm animals." By the time he'd gotten his theory out he'd come face-to-face with the human again and had pulled down his glasses just enough so that the pompous bag of air could get a glimpse of his inhuman yellow eyes. "So which is it?"

The human was clearly taken aback by Crowley's serpentine orbs, but he quickly recovered and narrowed his own eyes threateningly. "None o' your damn business, pal!" he shouted, beginning to lose his meagre composure. "I'll run my business however I want and you can just fuck off!" With that he unfolded his arms just long enough to give Crowley an unnecessarily violent shove that almost threw the demon right on top of the nearest few children. 

Aziraphale was halfway to the scene, his eyes ice-blue balls of angelic rage, when suddenly Crowley was right in front of the human again, both hands curled in the neck of the man's jacket, hissing something that sounded like an invocation to Satan himself. The man's eyes grew wider and more terrified with each step closer Aziraphale got, until he was a babbling mess of tears and pleas for his life by the time the angel's calming hand landed on his demon's shoulder. 

When Crowley turned his head to face the angel there was nothing unusual about him behind the bit of amber peeking up from beneath his lowered glasses. "Hey angel," he greeted in a perfectly normal, human-like voice. "What's up?"

Aziraphale squeezed his demon's shoulder a bit and gestured with amused eyes toward the gibbering mess of a human visibly hanging from Crowley's grip. "I rather think you've made your point, haven't you?"

Crowley raised an eyebrow and glared sideways at the human (who was whispering a litany of desperate promises to leave and never come back) before giving a little shrug and opening his fingers. The man fell to the ground like a sack of flour before immediately scrambling to his feet and taking off at a pace that would have qualified him for the England Athletics Masters team. 

Behind them the children cheered as though they'd just watched a comic book superhero defeat his greatest foe. 

Aziraphale was trying his very hardest to look stern, but he was having an incredibly difficult time keeping the twitchy little smile from the corner of his mouth. "I believe you may have scarred that man for life, my dear. What did you even say to him?"

Crowley gave a little shrug and made no attempt to hide the devious grin on his face. "Wasn't so much what I said as how I said it," he offered with a wink. "And you can't say he didn't deserve a good scare."

"Hmm...perhaps not such a... _ demonic  _ one though."

Crowley raised an eyebrow. His smile became something entirely more sly. "Oh, you should talk, angel. Admit it, when he shoved me you were on your way over here to smite him down." 

Aziraphale's cheeks grew hot red. "I'll admit no such thing," he scoffed, gaze flicking off to the side to avoid Crowley's knowing grin. He coughed a little nervously. "Saw me there then, did you?"

"Angel, I adore you," the demon said, "but you will never be known for your covert operations."

Aziraphale couldn't stop the little snort. He waved a hand dismissively, but his lips wouldn't stop curving upward. "So what are you planning to do with your liberated herd, here?" he asked, gesturing to the grazing reindeer.

Crowley turned to consider the animals, though Aziraphale was certain he'd had his entire plan worked out before he'd ever even left the bookshop. "I know a guy raises these things. I'll send 'em his way. But for now." He swooped down to scoop up the camera the man had left behind in his hurry to escape. He turned to the children with the camera held high and his arms opened in a flourish. "Good news, kids!" he announced loud enough to ensure everyone would hear. "It looks like pictures with Santa's reindeer are free today!"

The cheering this time was even louder and more exuberant, and it was joined by the silent but sunshine-bright smile of a positively smitten angel. 

They spent the rest of the day together in the park, Crowley snapping photos of excited children posing with the reindeer while Aziraphale materialized holiday sweets to exchange for a promise of being gentle with the beasts. Every child was wonderfully well-behaved (though, to be fair, that may have been the combined influence of the two celestial beings in their presence) and by the time the sun had set and Crowley was discreetly magicking the reindeer to their new home, Aziraphale was in an astoundingly good mood. 

"So," said the demon carefully as they began their trek back to the bookshop, "are we going to address the fact that you were spying on me?" 

Aziraphale cringed, but when he saw Crowley smirking at him out of the corner of his eye he knew he wasn't truly upset. "To be honest, I was just dreadfully curious," the angel admitted. "I rarely see you use your mobile phone as, well...a phone. Who was it that called you?"

Crowley shoved his fingers in his tiny pockets and wiggled his shoulders. "I may have a bit of a...side business in the works," he admitted. The way his lips twitched was midway between devilish and embarrassed. "Something of a personal Better Business Bureau." 

He didn't explain any further, but with that little bit of information Aziraphale couldn't stop his smile at the thought of Crowley taking calls from frustrated children feeling that they're being treated unfairly. "Hmm...perhaps I should start tagging along," he suggested offhandedly, with a sly glance toward his demon. "You know...just to make sure you're not going overboard."

Crowley seemed to be working very hard to look insulted, but Aziraphale could see the little twitch in the demon's cheek that he knew meant he was pleased and didn't want to admit it. "Psh," the demon hissed. "Can't stop ya following me, obviously." 

He left it at that, and Aziraphale grinned beatifically, winding his arm around the demon's to pull him close as they walked. 

"No, my dear. You certainly can't."


End file.
